I jumped on the iceberg
As directed
By the Gods
Not sure what to do
Next
I pushed away from the
Icy shore
No helm
No compass
But my
Self
My mass of ice is sturdy
But I have to get used
To the cold
And
The whole balance thing.

 

Theres room for a small couch
And my trusty chart table
The galley
Small
Just how I like it

 

I rest on my back and gaze at the stars
Charting my course
Listening to the quiet
Lapping of water
I can only look forward
Because
If I look back at
What was before
I will have no map at all

 

My company is satisfactory
Though
I resist
My reflection in the water
For fear
Of joining the others
In its endless abyss.

 

Once at port
I will find a new crew
For there are always
Others
Stout
And
Ready
For
The following sea.

 

Best to hide the rum.